A Dream Given Form
by Nix Nada
Summary: WIP Babylon5 SG1 crossover. Daniel gets a mysterious message from a distant place and time, with a very unusual Gate address.
1. Chapter One

**A Dream Given Form**

A Babylon5 / Stargate SG1 Crossover

By Nix Nada

* * *

_Become the Dreamer, open your eyes_

_Become the Keeper, free your mind_

_Become the Builder, destroy the bridge_

_Become the Sleeper – awaken!_

* * *

Daniel Jackson took off his glasses, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. As he did so, he became aware that the talk around the meeting table had died down. 

"Are you alright, Doctor Jackson?" asked General Hammond.

"Uh, yeah," replied Daniel. "Just tired, I guess. I've been having these odd dreams; haven't been getting much sleep."

"Do you need to be excused?" said Hammond.

"No, no," said Daniel, suppressing a wince of pain. "I'll be fine, really."

Hammond regarded Daniel for a moment longer, then turned back to Samantha Carter, who stood beside a large screen that was cycling slowly through some grainy aerial intelligence photographs. "Major Carter, please continue."

"Thank you, sir," said Sam, casting a concerned glance at Daniel who was rubbing his temples with his knuckles. "As you can see from the UAV images, the defences around the installation are slight at best. I don't think they're expecting an attack."

"It could be a trap," remarked Teal'c.

"Yeah," said Colonel Jack O'Neill, sourly. "Like they're just gonna leave a huge weapons cache like that unguarded."

"I disagree," said Sam, turning back to the screen behind her. "These were taken only two hours ago and you can clearly see -"

She broke off as Daniel fell from his chair with a cry of pain, clutching his temples.

Hammond leapt to his feet. "Get a medical team to take him to the infirmary, now!"

Jack and Teal'c held Daniel's shoulders as he writhed on the floor, until Doctor Janet Fraiser and her medical team arrived.

"Become the Sleeper," muttered Daniel as he was lifted onto a medical gurney. "Destroy… bridge…"

* * *

Daniel awoke in the infirmary, a nurse leaning over him. 

"Doctor Fraiser," called the nurse, "he's conscious."

Doctor Fraiser moved quickly to Daniel's bedside. "How are you feeling, Doctor Jackson?" she asked.

"Fine," said Daniel, with a confused frown. "I don't know what you did, but I feel… fine."

"I didn't do a thing, I'm afraid," said Janet. "There was nothing we could do, except wait for the seizure to pass and administer a sedative. We ran a CAT scan while you were unconscious and found no anomalous readings. As far as I can ascertain, you're in perfect health, sudden seizures aside."

Daniel laughed. "So what you're saying is there's nothing at all wrong with me, except for what's wrong with me."

Janet smiled warmly. "Hey, you don't like the bedside manner? Find another doctor."

Daniel swung his legs over the side of the bed. "No," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, "no need for a second opinion."

"Doesn't he at least get a lollipop for being good?" came a voice from the doorway.

"Jack, hi," said Daniel. "I was just coming to see you."

"Feeling better, are we?" said Jack.

"Much, thank you. That's not why I wanted to speak to you, though."

"Oh?" said Jack.

"I wanted to tell you about the dreams I've been having," said Daniel.

Jack winced and looked to Doctor Fraiser. "Don't you have psychiatric professionals for this sort of thing, Doc?" Janet smiled, but said nothing.

"Cute," replied Daniel. "No, I think they're _more_ than just dreams."

Jack raised an eyebrow in surprise. "More than just dreams; seriously, Janet, are you sure he's safe to be let out of here?"

"Come on, Jack," implored Daniel. "I'm serious. I think they're a communication of some kind."

"Okay," said Jack, still sounding sceptical. "Let's go talk it over in the refectory. I get the feeling I'm gonna need a _serious_ amount of pie to get through this one."

* * *

Later that day, SG-1 was back at the long table in the briefing room with General Hammond. Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his chair, although this time it was embarrassment that caused his discomfort rather than pain. 

"I know, I know," he said, "it sounds ridiculous – but it was so clear."

"And you say this being, what was his name – Kesh?" started Sam.

"Kosh," corrected Daniel.

"You're saying this 'Kosh' gave you a Gate address?"

"Don't forget the poem," put in Jack. "It's a killer."

Daniel's discomfort was beginning to turn to irritation. "Look, I don't know what it was about. All I know is that I had a dream about someone calling himself Kosh who spouted a lot of mystic mumbo-jumbo, indicated that he needed our help and showed me a Gate address. He said it was a 'bridge'. It makes no sense, I feel a fool even bringing it up here, but what if it _is_ something more?"

"It can't hurt to dial the address," suggested Sam. "If it doesn't connect to a Gate, what have we lost?"

General Hammond sat back in his chair, silent for a moment, pondering his decision. "Agreed," he said at last. "Let's give it a go."

"Thank you, sir," said Daniel.

* * *

The great wheel of the Stargate spun in its housing, coming to rest at the last of Daniel's Gate coordinates. The final chevron slammed into place and locked, the swirling blue of the wormhole twisting out into the room, before snapping back to form a stable, vertical pool. 

Up in the Control Room, the team exchanged looks of surprise. Daniel, however, realised that there had never been any doubt in his mind that this address was valid. The dream had been so vivid, so _urgent_, that he almost felt he could still see the symbols when he closed his eyes.

"It appears that you were correct, Daniel Jackson," observed Teal'c.

Daniel nodded, but said nothing. He had almost hoped that he was wrong. Something about the message in the dream disturbed him. Knowing that the Gate address worked meant that the danger he perceived was likely to be very real as well.

"Alright," said General Hammond, "send through the MALP."

On the ramp before the Stargate, a bulky, unmanned vehicle with a robotic arm began to inch forward on its caterpillar tracks and, when it reached the top, slowly slipped through the wormhole.

The team waited for the MALP to reach its destination.

"Receiving MALP telemetry now, sir," announced the Gate technician. The team crowded around his monitor screen to see what the video camera onboard the MALP would send back.

The screen was black. "Sorry," said the technician, after a moment. "We're not getting any visual data. According to the readings, there's no atmosphere either."

Daniel let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. The Gate led nowhere; the danger was passed.

"Wait a minute," said Sam, pointing at the screen, "are those stars?"

Against the black background, almost undetectable in the grainy image sent back through the wormhole, tiny pinpoints of light could be seen, gently rolling up the screen.

"I don't think this Gate is on a planet!" exclaimed Sam. "I think the MALP is spinning through space."

"The Gate could have been jettisoned from a Goa'uld ship," suggested Teal'c.

"Why would the Goa'uld discard a functioning Gate?" asked Jack.

"Perhaps they were transporting it and their ship was destroyed," replied Teal'c. "The Stargate may have survived."

"Hold on," said Sam, "I think we're getting something else."

The MALP had rolled forwards until it was pointing back the way it had come.

"That's no Stargate," said Sam. The screen showed what appeared to be four massive girder-like structures, hanging in space. In the centre of the four beams, a conical vortex twisted away, like a distortion of the Stargate wormhole. "What the hell is that thing?"

"I have never seen its like before," said Teal'c.

"Whatever it is," said Sam, as the image rolled off the bottom of the screen again. "It seems to be serving as a substitute Stargate."

"Is that possible?" asked General Hammond.

Sam shrugged. "I wouldn't have thought so, but…" she indicated the screen as evidence.

"There's something else there," said Jack. The MALP had rolled again so that it was almost facing away from the metal structure. The screen now showed a long, bumpy cylinder, slowly revolving on its axis. At one end, two huge prongs like a massive pincer jutted from the object, while the other end held six fin-like structures that appeared to be solar panels, three on either side, at right angles to the object.

It looked vast. The team stared at it in wonder, until they were startled by a transmission through the MALP's radio system.

"Unidentified craft," said a woman's voice. "This is Earthforce station, Babylon 5. Please transmit your identification. Your craft appears to be out of control. Do you require assistance?"

Hammond cleared his throat, taken aback, "This is General Hammond, of the United States Air Force," he said into the microphone.

There was a pause. "Say again?" said the voice. "The what?"

Hammond exchanged a puzzled look with Jack, who returned it with a characteristic shrug. "The… United States Air Force," he repeated. "Did you say that your space station was called _Earth_force?"

The woman sighed. "Is this some kind of joke? Because believe me, it's been a very long day and I didn't have much of sense of humour to begin with."

"No joke, ma'am, I assure you," replied Hammond.

There was another, longer, pause. "This is an Earthforce station, affiliated to the government of the Earth Alliance, and its name is Babylon 5," recited the woman slowly, as if talking to a child. "My name is Commander Ivanova, and I have now officially run out of patience." Her voice managed to still sound calm and reasonable as she added, "Please either dock… or get the hell out of this sector."

Sam had an idea. "Commander Ivanova," she said into the radio, "what year is it?"

"Good grief!" exclaimed Ivanova when she heard Sam's voice. "How many of you are crammed into that thing?"

Sam laughed. "Oh, no, this vehicle is just a probe we use to gather data – it's not a ship."

"A probe?" said Ivanova, instantly suspicious. "Sent from where? For what purpose?"

"From Earth," replied Sam, "but if I'm right, I don't think it's the Earth that you know."

Again, there was silence from the radio as Ivanova thought this over. "Can we continue to communicate if I bring your probe on board the station?"

Sam checked her watch to see how long the Stargate's wormhole had been open. "I think so. I can keep communications open for about twenty more minutes. After that, I'd have to re-establish contact."

"Good," replied Ivanova. "I'll send a ship out to tow your probe in. I think you and I need to have a little chat."

"Thank you, Commander," said Sam, "I'd like that. Can you just confirm something for me? What year is it?"

"The year?" asked Ivanova. "It's 2258."


	2. Chapter Two

SG-1, along with General Hammond, were sat around the meeting table again, Samantha Carter back beside the display screen – which this time showed a revolving schematic of a location in space time; a green line bisecting a cube filled with points of light.

"As far as I can tell, and from what we discussed with Lieutenant Commander Ivanova, the location of Babylon 5 is not on the Stargate network," she said. "In fact, it's not in this universe at all."

"A parallel universe," said Daniel, "like the one we saw through the quantum mirror."

"Or our future," said Sam. "They come from Earth, but it's the year 2258 for them. This may be where our timeline is headed."

"Doesn't have to be our future," chipped in Jack. "It could be the future of a timeline that branched off from ours centuries in our past."

Sam stared at Jack, surprised. He didn't usually contribute to the theoretical discussions. On the contrary, Jack – ever the soldier – always wanted to skip the theory, preferring to move straight on to the practical.

"What?" he said with a shrug. "Sometimes I just get tired of playing dumb at your little Science Club meetings."

Hammond couldn't suppress a chuckle at that.

"It's a possibility, sir," Sam admitted, ignoring Jack's teasing. "In an attempt to find out for certain where – and when – this station is, we tracked the trajectory of the wormhole as best we could. The path passes right through the centre of at least three suns and pretty near a black hole, before – well, at that point we gave up trying to follow it – for all intents and purposes, it disappeared. The point is, I believe the link between our Stargate and what Ivanova called a 'Jumpgate' is due to a chance conjunction of celestial bodies so precise that it will never again occur in the lifetime of our universe."

"So," said Jack, "it's now or never, huh?"

"That's one of our main problems," replied Sam. "As near as I can estimate, we will have only forty-eight hours before the pathway shifts out of alignment and we can't get through." Sam paused and swallowed hard before finishing, "…or back."

"We have to try, though," said Daniel, urgently. "That dream was a plea for help. Not only that, but this pathway, this bridge – whatever it is – represents a chance to visit what might well be the future of our society."

"Or _alternate_ future," said Jack.

Daniel threw him a look of exasperation.

"Sorry," said Jack, "it was too good a theory not to repeat."

"You have exactly thirty-six hours from now," said Hammond, making clear from his tone that this deliberation was non-negotiable, "to get there, do what you have to do, and return here. I won't risk any longer than that."

"Aren't we all forgetting something?" asked Jack. "How do we get through the Stargate to Babylon 5? There's quite a lot of space between the two – I mean _actual_ space."

Sam bit her lip. This was the part she had not been looking forward to explaining. "I was just getting to that, sir," she said. "I've spoken to Ivanova, and she will send out a ship to pick us up." That was the easy part over, now for the tough sell. "We'll need to wear suits, of course."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "_Space_ suits?"

Sam smiled. "Can you think of better suits for wearing in space?" she asked.

"I've arranged for four suits to be made available ASAP," said Hammond.

Jack sighed and stood up. "We'd better make a move then," he said, resignedly. "If we're gonna boldly go…"

The others stood and made ready to leave.

"Besides," added Jack, never one to let a good idea go, "we have an alternate future to save."

o o o

"And they say they're from the Earth?"

Ivanova stood before the desk of her commanding officer, Jeffrey Sinclair, having just delivered her report on the communication with Stargate Command.

"They also say they're from the past," said Ivanova.

"You don't believe them?" asked Sinclair.

Ivanova thought it over for a moment. "I'm not sure, sir," she said. "Stranger things have happened. Either way, I'd like to bring them aboard, find out more."

Commander Sinclair smiled. "At worst, I suppose Doctor Franklin could always use a few more psych cases to study."

"In this place?" said Ivanova. "Show me someone who isn't at least a _little_ nuts and I'll buy you breakfast. Anyway, they're suiting up now; I'm preparing a ship to go out and meet them."

"Wait a minute," said Sinclair. "They're coming through the Jumpgate in space suits! They _are_ nuts!"

Ivanova shrugged. "They say at their end it's not a Jumpgate in space. It's an Earth-based device for pedestrian planetary travel."

"They walk?"

"Apparently so," replied Ivanova. "Here's hoping they get through in one piece."

"I'll let you get on with your preparations," said Sinclair. "Let me know when they're aboard."

As an afterthought, he added, "take Garibaldi with you when you go to meet them. Can't hurt to have some security along. Hell, if they're crazy enough to _walk_ through a Jumpgate, who knows what they're capable of?"

o o o

Jack dropped the visor of his space suit, listening to the rushing sound of his own breath, echoing in the enclosed confines of the helmet.

Behind him on the ramp that led up to the Stargate stood Sam, Daniel and Teal'c, similarly suited up. Before him, an open wormhole rippled and glimmered. They were ready to go.

"Okay," said Jack, as much to check the functioning of the radio communicators in the helmets as for something to say. He pointed up at the Gate with a bulkily gloved hand. "Let's do this."

They clumped up the ramp and stepped through the shimmering wormhole. Their vision was instantly filled with the now-familiar screeching vortex that hurled them from Earth to their distant destination. Before the end of their journey, the colour of the vortex deepened to a dark, stormy blue, the vortex twisting and contorting.

They emerged from the Jumpgate wormhole. There ahead of them lay the Babylon 5 station. Even from this distance, they could make out the little signs of activity in and around the station. Lights blinked on and off within, tiny ships circled the space around it, while the station itself constantly turned slowly on its axis.

"Why aren't we moving?" asked Daniel.

"We are," Sam assured him. "It's just that with no gravity and no acceleration you get no sensation of movement and there's nothing close enough to us to provide a visual reference for our relative position."

"Oh," said Daniel, sounding very little the wiser. "Glad I asked."

They floated along for a minute in silence, taking in the majesty of the alien stars, spread out around them like tiny diamonds on black velvet.

"Well," said Jack, after a moment, "this gets old surprisingly quick. Ivanova, if you're gonna pick us up, now would be a very good time."

Ivanova's voice crackled through the helmet radio. "Relax," she said. "I've just left the station; I'm on my way to pick you up."

The team strained to see any craft that may have left Babylon 5. After a moment, they did discern a tiny shape, pulling away, on a course to intercept them.

The craft grew larger as it flew nearer. Soon, the massive bulk of a cargo carrier hung over their heads.

Sam was amazed. "Look at the size of that thing!" she exclaimed. "I mean, Babylon 5 looked big, but if that ship was docked inside it, then the station must be further away than it looks."

Daniel craned his neck around to look at Jack. "Is this a 'relative distances' thing again?" he asked.

"I think so," replied Jack.

"Ah," said Daniel, settling back. "Then I won't ask."

"Hold on," said Ivanova, over the radio. "I'm going to open the lower hold doors and bring the ship down to meet you."

"I hope she knows what she's doing," muttered Jack, eying the huge ship with trepidation.

"I heard that," replied Ivanova.

Above them, the two massive doors began to slide apart slowly.

Suddenly, the conical bloom of an incoming wormhole opened up in the expanse of space before them. From it emerged a large, ugly looking cruiser which immediately disgorged half a dozen fighters that streaked away, heading towards Ivanova's ship.

They could hear her panicked voice over the radio. "Babylon 5," she yelled, "I have six bogies incoming on an attack vector. Require immediate fighter assistance. Repeat: immediate fighter assistance."

The enemy fighters opened fire, streaks of laser splashing across the cargo carrier's exposed hull. The armour buckled and scorched.

The Stargate team could do nothing but hang there, drifting helplessly in space.

"We're sitting ducks!" cried Sam in frustration.

"Returning fire," shouted Ivanova, and from somewhere on the top of her ship, a single laser began pulsing out shots at the fighters. It was clear she was hopelessly outgunned.

The fighters circled around for another pass.

Ivanova voice crackled over the radio. "This is gonna get ugly."


	3. Chapter Three

Jack and his team watched in dismay as the fighters burned another strip from the hull of the cargo carrier, before hurtling past mere feet from where they hung in space. This pass, however, the carrier's single laser found its mark on one of the smaller ships, destroying one of the wing-mounted engines, sending the fighter spinning off into space, spewing sparks.

"I think we're too small to be a target for the fighters," said Daniel, hopefully. "I don't know if they can see us at all, they're flying so fast."

"Great," said Jack, sourly. "That'll be a huge comfort when one of them flies right through us."

_Or if the ship hanging above us blows up in our faces_, he added to himself. He knew better than to voice his feelings at that moment, however.

A man's voice burst into their radio receivers. "Ivanova, I've dispatched Alpha Wing. They're approaching your position at maximum burn."

"Thank you, Commander," yelled back Ivanova. "Tell them to make it quick!"

Another voice cut in, evidently one of the pilots of Alpha Wing. "Don't worry, Lieutenant Commander," he teased. "We'll save you from the big, bad pirates."

"Yeah, Dillon?" replied Ivanova, icily. "And who's gonna save you from me after that remark?"

The pilot laughed. "Well," he said, "that's life in Alpha Wing – we're used to danger."

The five remaining enemy fighters had by this time circled around for another attack run. Flying in arrow formation, they concentrated their fire on one section of the armour. A huge strip of blackened metal twisted off and broke free. Even from their position below the carrier, SG-1 could see that the huge ship was venting atmosphere.

"They've breached the hull!" shouted Ivanova. "Sealing off main cargo bay."

By now, the wide cross-shapes of the Alpha Wing fighters were visible, their engines burning furiously.

"Okay, pirates," said Dillon, his voice stern, "it's time to make you one with the star stuff. Alpha Wing – attack pattern Delta, follow me."

"Take your time," said Ivanova sarcastically. "I'm telling you, if I get out of this, you're going on double scramble drills for a week."

"Come on, Lieutenant Commander," said Dillon, with a laugh. "Give us some incentive here!"

As one ship, the Alpha Wing fighters opened fire on the raiders. Two of the pirate fighters disappeared in a ball of fire that quickly dissipated into the vacuum of space. Alpha Wing altered course to pursue the three remaining ships.

The lead raider's course dipped suddenly, in an effort to shake off his pursuer. The Alpha Wing pilot, taken by surprise, sped on overhead.

"He's going too fast," Jack couldn't help muttering. "He'll never turn in time."

However, with a kick of its starboard engines, the little fighter spun sharply through 180 degrees, in line with the raider ship's escape path. It opened fire, reducing the enemy fighter to a fine cloud of smouldering debris.

The two remaining enemy fighters made a break for their carrier, which was itself pulling away from the battle.

"Let them go," ordered Dillon. "Secure the area around the cargo carrier while it picks up its… passengers."

Ivanova's voice came back over the radio, managing to sound only slightly shaken by her near-death experience. "I'm bringing the ship down to meet you now," she told the Stargate team. "I've got a big hold full of vacuum back there now, so you'll need to keep those suits on until we get back to the station."

The open hold engulfed the team as the cargo carrier settled down upon them. The huge doors slid shut under their feet.

"There are railings along the wall," continued Ivanova. "As you can tell, it's next to zero-G back there. Let me know when you've all got a grip."

Jack and his team dragged themselves clumsily through the hold, fighting the lack of gravity, until they reached the railing. Just then, Jack caught sight of the lengthy gash carved through the roof of the hold, open to the stars. The attack had been a close-run thing.

"Uh…" he began, not taking his eyes off the damage, "we're in."

Daniel looked up to see what Jack was looking at. "Oh," he said. "That doesn't look good. Perhaps that's why we've been brought here – to help deal with this problem?"

Jack thought about this. "I don't think so," he said. "I mean, Sam and I could probably fly one of those fighters, but it looked to me like their own guys had everything sewn up."

They heard Dillon laugh over the radio. "Well, thank you kindly, sir. We do our best."

"Are you aware that _everyone_ can hear those radio links you're using?" put in Ivanova.

"Uh, we are now," replied Jack. "I think we'll just sit quiet until we get these suits off. Not that I mind you hearing every little thing that we say, but it's a little too like we're broadcasting every thought we have."

"I hear that," replied Ivanova. "Okay, Dillon – if you can keep the smart comments to a minimum, you can escort us home."

"My pleasure, ma'am," replied Dillon.

Escorted by Alpha Wing, the battered cargo carrier limped home.

o o o

The Stargate team felt the pull of gravity as the ship settled into the station. They rose to their feet, a little unsteady in the changed environment, now that down was down again.

"Space is a pain in the ass," remarked Jack, as they stripped off the space suits, "but I just can't seem to stay out of it."

Ivanova stepped down from the cockpit. She was a strong looking woman, with an air of cool authority. She was wearing a blue uniform with a straight collar, fastened with a leather lapel. She was met by a man in a similar uniform to her own, only in grey, his hands stuffed nonchalantly in his pockets.

Ivanova stepped forward and introduced herself.

"I am Lieutenant Commander Ivanova," she said, "and this is Mister Garibaldi."

Jack admired Ivanova's confidence and military bearing, almost having to resist the urge to snap off a salute. To his mind, this was clearly someone with natural authority, who commanded respect. She reminded him of some of the officers he had served with back on Earth – the type of person who runs constantly on a sort of nervous energy, always in control, with rarely a feeling of being off-duty.

Mister Garibaldi, on the other hand, looked relaxed, completely at home in his surroundings, but beneath that Jack could sense a constant undercurrent of suspicion. He got the feeling that this man could go from friendly smile to hostile take-down in seconds, if the situation demanded, and, though his hands were in his pockets, that put them not too far away from the little pistol at his hip.

"Security Chief?" Jack asked.

"How did you know?" replied Garibaldi, with a slight grin.

"Just a guess," replied Jack.

"Whoa," said Garibaldi suddenly, "you'll not be needing that!"

Teal'c had been unpacking his gear from the backpack of the suit and had pulled out his zat weapon.

"I'll just keep a hold of that for now," said Garibaldi, lifting the zat carefully from Teal'c's hand. "You can pick it up before you leave."

Teal'c gave a questioning look to Jack, who lifted his hands slightly to indicate that it was alright to surrender the weapon.

"So…" began Jack. "You've met Teal'c. I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill, this is Major Samantha Carter and this is Doctor Daniel Jackson."

Ivanova looked them all up and down, appraisingly. "Two officers, a doctor and a man with only one name," she said. "An interesting team."

"That they are," agreed Jack. "Hey, thanks for saving our space suited butts out there. What was all that?"

Ivanova shrugged. "Just a little local pirate trouble," she said. "We took out one of their major raiding parties a while back and they've been picking at us ever since. They don't have enough fighters left for an effective assault, but these hit-and-fade routines can get wearing."

"It's when they stop that I get worried," put in Garibaldi. "Means they're putting together something big. As long as they keep throwing one or two fighters at us at a time, we can cope."

A small metal plate attached to the back of Ivanova's hand beeped. She lifted it to her face. "Ivanova," she said.

The metal plate turned out to be a communicator. "Are the visitors aboard?" said a man's voice.

"Yes, commander," she replied. "I'm bringing them to you now. I just need to assign someone to stow their gear."

"Good," replied the commander. "I'll expect you shortly. Sinclair out."

They stepped out of the cargo carrier's hold, into a vast docking bay. The room teemed with activity, as groups of workers in overalls carted crates and boxes from to and from the other ships in the bay. One such team, at Ivanova's command, climbed aboard to retrieve SG-1's gear.

They left the docking bay and headed deeper into the station. All the while, Ivanova was handing out orders through the com-link on her hand.

"Ivanova to Maintenance," she said. "There's a cargo carrier that needs patching up, in Bay 3."

Garibaldi fell into step beside Jack. "So you're from Earth?" he asked. "The twentieth century?"

"Twenty-first, actually," said Jack. "But only just."

Garibaldi got a wistful, faraway look in his eye. "I love the twentieth century. The cars, the music, the television shows."

"The Simpsons," added Jack.

"I'm more of a Warner Brothers man myself," confessed Garibaldi.

"Philistine," said Jack, with a grin.

Ivanova tapped her communicator again. "Ivanova to Control – have some quarters assigned for our recent arrivals." She broke off and turned to SG-1. "I assume you all want separate rooms?" she asked.

Sam couldn't help throwing a rather guilty-looking glance at Jack, who managed to ignore her.

"Yes," he said, poker-faced. "That'd be great."

If Ivanova had noticed the look Sam had given, she pretended not to notice. She nodded and continued on down the corridor, still seeming to run the station via the back of her hand. A sign on the wall announced that they were leaving Yellow Sector and entering Blue. They stopped at what appeared to be an elevator.

Garibaldi found he was warming to SG-1, now that he felt they posed no threat to security. "Okay," he announced. "That concludes the grand tour of the docking bay and Yellow Sector. Now, if you'll follow us – the next stop: Commander Sinclair."


	4. Chapter Four

Commander Sinclair stood up and smiled warmly at the Stargate team. Stepping around his desk he shook hands with each of them as Ivanova made the introductions.

"Welcome to Babylon 5," he smiled.

"Thank you, sir," replied Jack. "It's a faintly bewildering pleasure to be here."

Sinclair laughed. "It's strange for us, too. It's not every day that we have visitors who just walk through the Jumpgate."

"Or that we get a call from about two hundred and fifty years in the past," put in Garibaldi.

"I think it might be further than that," interrupted Sam, "and not just in time, either."

By way of explanation, Jack felt compelled to say, "Sam is our… expert."

"Really," said Sinclair, politely, "on what?"

"Everything," said Jack, Daniel and Teal'c in unison.

Sam did her best to ignore them and continued. "Does Earth have a Stargate?"

"Not that I'm aware of," said Sinclair. "Ivanova told me what you told her about it. Apparently, it's a stone circle that you use to travel in time and space?"

"Not time," corrected Sam, but then she stopped and reconsidered. "Well, not usually."

"That doesn't mean the Gate isn't there," argued Jack. "The Stargate is a secret from most of Earth in our time; on a need-to-know basis. A lot of our own military personnel know nothing of the programme."

Sam pressed on with her train of thought. "Commander Sinclair, do any of these words sound familiar: Goa'uld? Tok'ra? Jaffa?"

Sinclair spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "I'm sorry, Major, we get a lot of races coming through Babylon 5, so it's possible."

Sam shook her head. "No, if you'd met them, you'd know. That means that this universe may be wildly divergent from our own."

"You still have Daffy Duck though, right?" said Garibaldi. As Jack smiled and nodded Garibaldi feigned great relief. "Oh, thank god for that."

"There was one thing I didn't quite understand from your communications, however," said Sinclair. "What brought you to Babylon 5?"

Jack glanced over his shoulder. "Daniel?"

Daniel stepped forward, looking a little sheepish. "I had a dream," he said.

"A dream?" asked Ivanova with an incredulous laugh.

Daniel was getting used to this reaction and continued, regardless. "Someone in that dream told me the co-ordinates for your Gate and made damn sure that we'd come here. Someone named Kosh."

Ivanova stopped laughing.

"Kosh?" said Garibaldi.

"You know him?" asked Daniel.

Garibaldi gave a wry laugh. "You bet. If someone's going to mess with your head, you can bet it'll be a Vorlon."

"Kosh is the ambassador for the Vorlon homeworld," explained Sinclair. "We have a number of ambassadors living on this station."

"Could he have sent this message to me?" asked Daniel.

Sinclair shrugged. "I couldn't say for sure. We know very little about the Vorlons," he said, "but one thing we do know: nothing they do, or are able to do, surprises us anymore."

"He made it pretty clear that we were needed here," said Daniel.

"Pretty clear?" interrupted Jack, with a note of admonishment in his voice.

"Well, okay, he said a lot of odd, cryptic poems – but that's the impression I got from him," said Daniel. "Can we meet him?"

"Well, I can try to arrange a meeting," said Sinclair, "but I can't promise anything."

"Thank you," said Daniel. "We don't have much time."

"In the meantime," said Ivanova, "I'll show you to your quarters - if you'll follow me?"

o o o

The first thing that struck the Stargate team as they were led through the station to their quarters was how busy Babylon 5 was. Humans and aliens - some vaguely humanoid, some less so - went about their business, never sparing a glance for the four visitors.

"This is the Zocalo," said Ivanova, "our main marketplace."

"It all looks so… ordinary," said Daniel. "If it weren't for the fact that some of the people aren't, well, _people_, this could be any marketplace on earth."

"What did you expect," replied Ivanova, "alien monsters sucking the brains out of defenceless humans?" She thought for a moment. "Not that that never happens," she added.

"No," said Daniel. "It's just not what I was expecting."

"To be honest," explained Jack, "it's unusual for us to meet an alien race and not have them shooting at us – or kidnapping us, cloning us, possessing us, replacing us with robot doubles, or otherwise trying to spoil our day. Actually, this is rather refreshing."

He took in a deep, happy breath, just as a stallholder thrust a handful of rubbery tentacles under his nose.

"Gappa squid, Earther?" said the stallholder. "Fresh off the shuttle from Nandos IV."

Jack's face turned the same green as the squid. "No… thank you," he wheezed.

As the others laughed, Ivanova's communicator beeped. "Ivanova," she said into it.

"Lieutenant Commander, there's been an explosion on Green 5," said a voice. "No hull breach at this time and fire suppression has been auto-activated, but we are getting readings of a continuing disturbance from that section."

"I'll check it out myself," said Ivanova, "Ivanova out."

She turned to the Stargate team. "I'm sorry about this," she said. "I'll have someone else see you to your quarters."

"Anything we can do to help?" asked Jack.

Ivanova shrugged. "Well, it's not like you're civilians. I guess it can't hurt. Come on."

o o o

Green Sector looked much like Yellow and Blue, but for the green stripe running along the walls and a very large plume of thick black smoke billowing from one of the doorways.

Ivanova hurried into the room, ducking low to avoid the smoke, followed by Jack and his team.

"I don't want excuses, I want ventilation set to maximum for Green 5," Ivanova shouted into her communicator. "Either this smoke gets sucked out into space, or you do; it's your choice." She jabbed at the communicator's 'off' switch, angrily.

"Now," she muttered. "What the hell's been going on here?"

The room was in disarray. The blast had scorched the walls and smashed most of the room's furniture. Strangely, despite the continuing clouds of smoke, there appeared to be nothing in the room that was actually on fire.

"Over here," called Jack, who had located the source of the smoke, a small black box lined on the outside with what appeared to be velvet, which sat on a low table, surrounded by candles and large, heavy books. Jack reached out gingerly and knocked the lid of the box shut. The smoke ceased immediately and quickly began to dissipate.

"So much for 'no smoke without fire'," observed Daniel.

As the smoke cleared they were able to make out a figure, standing in the corner, his arms raised out to either side.

Ivanova quickly drew her weapon. "Don't move!" she yelled, but the figure made no attempt to get away.

The smoke thinned and they saw the reason why the figure remained motionless. It was the dead body of a young man, dressed in the scorched remnants of a dark cloak, his head shaved bald. He appeared to have been pinned to the wall by the blast.

"Aw, jeeze," said Ivanova. "What a mess."

As she used her communicator to make the necessary arrangements for cleaning up the room, removing the body and investigating the blast, Jack and the others examined the room a little closer.

"These seem to be books on astronomy and astronavigation," observed Sam, "but there's stuff mixed in there that looks astrological as well."

"The science of astrology?" asked Daniel. "Now there's an oxymoron. At least it's in English. Look at these ones. They're more like some sort of magical tomes."

"It looks like we've got an aspiring techno-mage," said Ivanova, who had finished making arrangements.

"A techno-mage?" asked Sam.

"They use highly advanced technology to create the semblance of magical powers," explained Ivanova. "I've never seen a real techno-mage – very few people have – but I've heard of this sort of thing happening before. Kids get into the whole 'mystical powers' thing, think it'll be good for picking up girls at parties, reckon they can fry the bigger kids for kicking sand into their faces – whatever. Then it blows up in their faces."

She gestured at the body in the corner. "Seems our friend here was trying a little experiment, only his smoke-box got a little overheated and he couldn't see what he was doing. Such a stupid waste. It's not like he was going to get anything to happen."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," said Jack from the other side of the room. He had found what looked like a small marble, suspended about four feet from the floor, its surface like swirling oil.

"What the hell is that?" asked Ivanova.

"I do not know," replied Teal'c, bending over and peering at the object, "but I believe it is growing larger."


	5. Chapter Five

"A techno-mage?" said Sinclair, incredulously.

Ivanova had returned to Sinclair's office. She felt it best to deliver this particular piece of bad news in person.

"Not a real one," replied Ivanova. "Just some kid who bought himself the robes and the books and a whole lot of bad luck."

Sinclair relaxed a little. "How long is the clear-up going to take?" he asked.

Ivanova shifted uneasily. "That's what I came to tell you. There's very little real damage to the room itself – that's easily fixed."

"But…" prompted Sinclair.

"But," said Ivanova, "he left us a little present. I've left the people from SG-1 taking a look at it. Do you know, that guy Daniel even suggested that this might be the reason they're here? Isn't that nuts?"

Sinclair leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully. "Well," he said, "they did walk through the Jumpgate from an alternate Earth, years in the past, on a mission they received from Ambassador Kosh in a dream…"

"Point taken," replied Ivanova.

"So what's this problem SG-1 is looking into for us?" asked Sinclair.

"I'm not sure," said Ivanova. "But it looks bad. Near as we could tell from looking at the kid's notes, it's some kind of portal or rift in space – and it's getting bigger."

"Bigger?" said Sinclair. "What sort of time-scale are we talking here?"

Ivanova paused. "I hate to give you 'I don't knows' for something as big as this…"

"But you don't know."

"No, sir," replied Ivanova. "From the rate of expansion, it'll fill the room it's in in about forty-five hours."

"Have we got any of our own people on it?"

"To be honest," said Ivanova, "I didn't see the point. Colonel Carter is an astrophysicist and Daniel Jackson is an expert on deciphering ancient languages like the one in our wannabe techno-mage's books. We don't have anyone better on the station."

Sinclair stood up. "So you think SG-1 is confident that they can handle this?"

"They'd better be," said Ivanova. "They only have a little under forty-five hours themselves until they're unable to return home."

"Then let's see what they can do."

o o o

"There's nothing we can do," said Jack.

Daniel looked up from the weighty tome he was reading and scowled. "Jack," he said, "this is why we're here. We have to be able to do something."

"Daniel's right," said Sam. "It can't be just coincidence that we show up when this happens, with the skills required to fix it – Daniel can translate the texts, then I can work out the –"

"Space stuff," interrupted Jack, "yeah, I know. But come on, we've only got forty-five hours to get back."

"Which is almost how long it'll take for that thing to go critical," said Sam, patiently. "It can't be coincidence, sir," she said again.

"It's _all_ coincidence!" cried Jack. "Okay, okay – you and Daniel have got the skills, there's no doubt about that, but then explain this: what are Teal'c and I here for?"

"Perhaps there's a magic word that needs to be said in a really sarcastic tone of voice?" muttered Daniel, into his book.

Jack waved a finger at Daniel, momentarily lost for words. "That's…" he started. "That's no way to talk about Teal'c."

"Perhaps," said Teal'c, feeling himself being dragged into the argument and looking for a quick escape, "we are here for a different reason, O'Neill; one that may be found elsewhere on this station."

"Good idea, T," replied Jack, straightening up. "Let's leave these two with their ancient tomes of power, huh?"

They made to leave but were stopped at the door by two men in security uniforms.

"What's going on?" asked Jack.

"It's okay," called Garibaldi, strolling up the corridor. The guards stepped back.

"Sorry about that; standard security protocol," explained Garibaldi. "I'm sure you wouldn't allow visitors to walk around your Stargate Command unescorted."

"No," agreed Jack, "and yet it happens so very often."

Garibaldi chuckled. "Yep," he said, "that's the trouble with a security net: a net is only a loose collection of holes."

"Very… philosophical," said Jack.

"Sorry, it's the long hours," replied Garibaldi. "You wouldn't believe the rubbish that runs through your head on the night shift."

Jack shook his head. "Garibaldi, I think that talking to you is one of the few things that's happened to me today to make any sense at all."

"I've just got off duty," said Garibaldi. "What say I buy you guys a drink?"

Jack turned to Teal'c with a smile. "Maybe Daniel was right – there _is_ a reason for us to be here." To Garibaldi, he said, "lead on!"

o o o

It didn't take long to reach one of Babylon 5's drinking establishments, and by the time they did, Garibaldi and O'Neill were chatting away like old friends. Teal'c, meanwhile, walked along silently beside them, taking in the sights and sounds of the station.

"An O'Neil class station?" O'Neill was saying. "You don't say. One L or two?"

"Just the one," replied Garibaldi.

"Ah, well, doesn't count," said O'Neill. "It's the deuce or it's nada, I'm afraid."

No sooner had they arrived and ordered drinks – O'Neill was delighted to find they still served beer in this version of the future, while Teal'c was served a glass of an unnamed but delicious fruit juice – than Garibaldi's wrist communicator beeped.

He sighed. "Garibaldi."

"Chief, we've got a situation down in Green-2. The Gaim ambassador's been murdered."

Garibaldi put his glass of fruit juice on the bar and stood to leave. As he reached to switch off his communicator the voice on the other end spoke again.

"Uh… Chief? Is Colonel O'Neill with you? I'd bring him along if I were you."

O'Neill raised his eyebrows in surprise and Garibaldi returned his look with a shrug. "On my way," he said and switched off his communicator.

"Well, let's go check this out," said Garibaldi. His manner seemed different somehow, more guarded, as if waiting to see what lay at the crime scene before deciding if he had been right to trust O'Neill. O'Neill, seeing this, found himself wanting to protest his innocence, but knew that such protestations might only imply guilt. Instead, he nodded and put his beer on the bar.

"May I remain here?" asked Teal'c.

Garibaldi looked uncertain, wrestling with conflicting feelings of companionship and suspicion.

"Teal'c will be no trouble," O'Neill assured him. "I promise you that. He's the most honourable man I know."

Garibaldi nodded. "Okay, Jack. Let's go."

Teal'c turned back to the bar as the others left. He knew that his friend was innocent and would have nothing to worry about whatever was discovered at the crime scene. With the faintest flicker of a smile, he picked up Garibaldi's untouched glass of fruit juice and sat it next to his own. Jack's beer he pushed to the far side of the bar.

_Perhaps Jack is right_, he thought, _and there really is no preordained reason for us to be here_. Nevertheless, it was a unique experience, visiting this grand space station with its exotic aliens. And in the meantime, he had two drinks in front of him. _Or maybe Daniel is right_, he went on, _and we each have a purpose here._ He felt sure that whatever it was would find him when it had to. And in the meantime, he had two drinks in front of him.

Someone took the seat to Teal'c's left. A sideways glance revealed a man with reptilian skin, dressed in what appeared to be studded leather armour. The man gestured to the bartender for a drink as another figure seated himself to the right of Teal'c. This man looked like a normal, slightly portly, middle-aged human, but was dressed in an extravagant frock coat, his hair standing straight up in a tall comb from ear to ear above a high, bare forehead. He too ordered a drink.

As one, they turned in towards Teal'c. "I couldn't help noticing," they both said at once.

The lizard-skinned man frowned. "Do you mind, Mollari?" he said, heavy venom dripping from his tone. "This is a private conversation."

Mollari's reply was a cold as the other's was spiteful. "This is a _public_ bar, G'Kar. I do not believe you can dictate the flow of conversation."

G'Kar gave a short, humourless laugh. "That's rich: a Centauri calls me a dictator."

"You see what I have to put up with?" Mollari said to Teal'c. "I do apologise, the Narn are like children, you see. They have no idea how to behave in civilised society. They lack the manners of the Centauri."

"'Centauri manners' is a contradiction in terms," replied G'Kar.

The two fell in to a sullen, resentful silence. Between them, Teal'c made a few quick assessments as he sipped his drink. The two obviously knew each other, but were clearly members of two opposing, rival races. There was a palpable air of stalled violence between them, as if each would like nothing better than to tear the other limb from limb, but was forced to resist the temptation. Something stopped them.

"You are ambassadors," Teal'c guessed.

"For my sins," agreed Mollari, staring down into his drink. "Yes."

"As am I," said G'Kar, taking a sip from his glass. "For his sins."

This jibe looked set to start them sniping at one another again, so Teal'c raised a hand for silence. "I am the sole representative of my people, the Jaffa, here in this universe. That makes me an ambassador of sorts. Perhaps we should talk."

"Yes," said Mollari, eagerly, "yes, but not here." He shot a look over at G'Kar. "There may be unsavoury elements listening."

"Here," said Teal'c, firmly. "All three of us."

_Perhaps, _he thought, _I am here to mediate a peace between these two races. This would be a great, near impossible task. _But in the meantime, he still had most of two drinks in front of him.

o o o

Elsewhere in the station, Garibaldi and O'Neill approached the crime scene. A man and a woman in security uniforms stood guard at the end of the corridor, but they moved aside to allow the two through.

Crumpled on the floor was a vaguely humanoid body, its torso torn open. It wore an insect-like helmet with round, dark eyes and a long snout. A wide pool of blood spread out from the corpse.

"Good god," said Garibaldi. "What a mess."

"I think it's obvious why I was to see this," said O'Neill, pointing to the wall.

Daubed on the wall, written in the ambassador's blood, were many words. They looked to have been written in a frenzy and the dark, dripping fluid had splashed and run over most of the wall, but a few words were still legible.

O'Neill. SG-1. Death.


End file.
